


Anniversary

by ficteer



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Hot Springs & Onsen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2863502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year passes and Abe has never been happier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> just a short blah thing i did for oof_69, 'onsen'
> 
> very very mild, artsy nsfw

Their first anniversary came up on him faster than Abe had expected, and it was over a cup of coffee, steam tickling his stubbled chin while he watched Mihashi’s back muscles handle a frying pan of eggs with expertise that he realized the first year of their marriage was coming to a close. The thought had him spluttering around a bite of toast, and though he assured a pale-faced Mihashi that yes, he was fine, he’d just swallowed it a bit too quickly without chewing properly, he knew that he positively  _wasn’t_  fine, he had  _no_  idea what did people do for this kind of thing and it  _had_  to be at  _least_ as perfect as the last eleven months, if not even  _better_.

He waited until Mihashi came back from the restaurant late one night a few days later, waited until he passed out on their bed to smooches and limbs tangled every which way, and when Abe was positively sure that Mihashi was asleep and thus dead to the world for the next few hours, he extracted himself as carefully as possible, grabbed his laptop, and snuck into their living room. A few clicks, a few searches, and the general consensus seemed to be that the norm was a nice retreat, just the two of them, somewhere special and  _not_  the same place as their honeymoon. As Mihashi’s new restaurant and Abe’s university teaching job had had them a little strapped for cash, their ‘honeymoon’ had just been four days of not leaving their brand new shared apartment save for a quick run to the convenience store when they underestimated how many condoms they’d need. But things were different now, they were comfortable, and Abe was feeling adventurous. 

And so, Abe did what he did best. He made his plans, booked everything in advance, closed his laptop, and then crawled back into bed to interlock back into the best piece of his life.

\----------

“Don’t make plans for next Tuesday or Wednesday,” Abe told Mihashi as nonchalantly as possible a few weeks later, and he half expected a confused tilt of Mihashi’s head, or an inquisitive glance; instead, he got wide eyes, and then a flushed face that bore a smile as bright as the day Mihashi heard Abe say yes. Unprepared for the sight, Abe inelegantly choked on his coffee.

\----------

The train to the northern village was not as packed as Mihashi expected, according to the murmurs in Abe’s ears where the blond is leaning over half in his seat (‘For warmth’, he says, though the fingers tracing barely-decently on the inseam of Abe’s jeans by his knees tells him otherwise). Abe carefully informed him that of  _course_  he would do his best to get them on a train that wouldn’t be as stressful, and he didn’t say it, but he knew Mihashi knew he did it to keep him from having to get too anxious around crowds like he still sometimes did, and the soft nuzzle of a nose behind his ear is all the thanks he needed. 

The inn was small, and the entire village was covered in snow when they got out of the taxi to grab their bags and shuffle inside. Abe felt Mihashi step in a bit closer when they crossed the threshold, a delicate shiver from the chill passing through the slight gap between them, even though Mihashi was wearing the coat Abe bought him this time last year for extra warmth when he walked home from the restaurant. He reached down and grabbed Mihashi’s hand, but it was warm, even through his gloves and Mihashi’s mittens. A glance down to the blond showed a pink blush on his cheeks, and Abe wondered if perhaps he had misinterpreted the shiver’s true origin.

Abe gave the clerk at the desk his last name, and she handed over the key to their room as well as a pamphlet detailing the hours of the baths and local attractions. Abe took both with a polite nod, then walked with Mihashi down the corner, through the halls until they stopped in front of their room for the night. Pushing it open showed the queen bed flanked by pretty side tables, a small desk, a door to the bathroom, and a large window that overlooked the distant mountain in a breathtaking view. 

“Takaya, it’s…” Mihashi said, hand wiggling into Abe’s, and Abe squeezed back, a small thrill chasing down his spine at the fact that he’d made Mihashi happy. The blond drops his bag on one side of the bed, unzipping it and already sprawling his things out all over the desk, and Abe just sits next to the steadily emptying bag, a fond sort of exasperation wedged in his chest. They hadn’t gone to hotels often, but even now, years later, he remembered that first time they’d shared a room, and Mihashi’s little pink blush when he’d dumped all his things out on his bed and Abe had mentioned it. That year, at least, they’d  _stayed_  in their separate beds, Abe thought, face burning a bit as he brought his attention back to now, to their shared bed, and the way Mihashi was comfortable with them in the same room, and knowing that later, when they tangled under strange sheets, they’d still lock the door, but not because they were worried about  their coach barging in and seeing her battery making out.

When Mihashi seemed to find the room satisfactorily mussed for his tastes, Abe watched as he reached over, hands curling around his own. He stood when Mihashi pulled, placed a soft kiss on the nose so close to his mouth, and felt the smile curl against the skin of Mihashi’s cheeks as hazel eyes fluttered shut. 

“We should go get dinner,” Mihashi said, and Abe hummed out in agreement, following Mihashi out into the hall and towards the dining area for their dinner. It came with the package Abe had bought that one night, hunched over and glaring into the light of his laptop in the dark living room, and it was nice, walking just so far until they were sitting at a small table by a cold-touched window, watching the snowflakes begin to fall as Abe tucked his hand into Mihashi’s by the salt shaker and let his thumb trace invisible love notes on his husband’s skin. His other hand brought the coffee he’d ordered to his lips, just as Mihashi lifted his mug of hot chocolate to take a sip of his own.

Their food came, hot and not as good as Mihashi’s, and he made the comment after a couple bites. It made Mihashi wiggle pleasantly in his seat, fork prodding around his vegetables shyly as he murmured, “You’re just biased, Takaya.”

“No, you just spoil me,” Abe responded factually, and the squawking laughter across the table quickly silenced beneath a once-worshiped hand was Mihashi’s embarrassed agreement. 

When they’re finished, they go back to their room and change into the yukata provided. They fit perfectly, because Abe had ordered these ahead of time too, and he knew Mihashi’s size as well as he knew his own, and had since even before he was allowed to sneak a kiss to Mihashi’s collarbones before they were hidden beneath the fabric as casually as he did, studying the soft pink of Mihashi’s cheeks as a pout pulled on the blond’s face and stayed there until they got to the shower stalls. 

Abe stripped and sat on the little wooden stool, scrubbing himself of the grime of travel. He stood and wrapped a towel around his waist when he was through, watching Mihashi’s broad shoulders work the last of the shampoo out of his hair beneath a warm spray of water. He swallowed a little more heavily at the sight, his breath coming a little more quickly, but when Mihashi finally joined back up with him, eyes wide as his smile, Abe did little more than brush his lips over Mihashi’s temple and follow him into the bath.

The water was just short of painfully hot, reddening his skin as he sank in up to his chest with a soft exhale of pleasure. Mihashi crawled in next to him, and Abe put his arm along the back almost unconsciously, the silent possession he was staking as satisfying as the way Mihashi leaned into his side, head pillowing on his shoulder and body slacking into full relaxation.

“How is it?” Abe asked, mostly asking about the bath until he heard the soft murmur of pleasure and felt the way Mihashi wiggled closer into his personal space.

“It’s perfect,” he responded, and Abe heard the slight difference in tone and knew Mihashi was talking about the trip itself. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t really known he was holding, letting himself sink a little deeper into the bath as he closed his eyes and let his cheek rub the top of Mihashi’s head. The bath was pleasant and warm, seeping into every corner of his body and mingling with the gentle shimmery pleasure of Mihashi’s fingers mindlessly tracing around his thigh under the water. He could smell the shampoo on Mihashi’s hair, and it was different from the one they both used at home but pleasant, and as his whole being filled with a sense of contentment, of peace, the thought crossed his mind, that perhaps this was the closest thing to a real happiness he’d ever really had. This feeling clenched deep and low in his gut. It was the same feeling he had every time his lips brushed over Mihashi’s in the morning when they separated for work; or when their hips bumped awkwardly in their bathroom while they were brushing the taste of each other out of their teeth; or when he looked up in the middle of an examination to see his phone flashing with a new message that was as pointless and inane as it was absolutely charming; or when he woke up on the couch to Mihashi’s kisses beneath his jaw and murmured apologies for staying late at the restaurant on the blond’s breath. All of those little bits of happiness he’d found over the past year and pieced together.

Abe blinked the sudden tears out of his eyes as he opened them again, glad for the steam causing his flush so his splotchy skin wouldn’t be as obvious. But perhaps he still underestimated Mihashi sometimes, he thought, because the blond shifted and turned, and when their gazes met, Mihashi gave him only a second before Abe blinked into a smile and there was a whisper of a kiss against his lips, and, “Happy anniversary, Takaya,” breathed against his skin. Abe felt his whole body burst into pleasured heat, and he pressed their foreheads tightly together, biting down hard on the trembling lip that was betraying every emotion bubbling deep inside.

“Happy anniversary, Ren,” he responded, voice choked and earning a shy bubbly stream of laughter that had him croaking out an embarrassed protest. Figuring that they should probably leave before the wrinkly old man near the waterfall got a little  _too_  interested in their conversation, Abe stood and pulled Mihashi out after him, dried off, and pulled his yukata back on his warmed skin. 

The walk back to their room was much slower than their walk to the baths, hands clasped and fingers tangled together so tightly Abe couldn’t feel where he ended and Mihashi began. The blond was humming something, a song Abe sort of recognized but couldn’t place, probably something new that was on the radio in the restaurant while Mihashi cooked. The hallway was empty save for their footsteps and Mihashi’s pleasant songbird voice, and their room dark when they stepped inside and shut the door behind them. 

Mihashi smothered his face in Abe’s chest the moment they were inside, fingers reaching up to clench in the softness of the yukata as he breathed in and then exhaled contentedly. “Lock the door,” he said after a heartbeat, and Abe quivered, still (probably forever) enchanted by the way it felt for Mihashi to have this piece of them so tightly in his hands. It had been extremely deliberate in the beginning; the very thought of doing anything before Mihashi had been ready horrifying to the younger Abe. He’d given Mihashi all control, let him call the shots until all hesitation bled away through familiarity. Now, it was comfortable for Mihashi to be the one to pull Abe towards the bed, and Abe cascaded over him, pulse picking up in perfect tempo with the shuddering breath beneath him.

“Takaya,” Mihashi breathed, fingers tight and pulling until they were both bare, the moonlight from through the thin curtains making Mihashi’s pale skin look like starlight in his hands, gaze burning silver-gold before they disappeared behind eyes closed tightly in pleasure. Abe tangled their hands together as tightly as their bodies, and when he bent forward to muffle his groan against Mihashi’s lips, he felt the old familiar grip for a fastball tight against his shivering palms.

They tucked beneath the sheets when they curled together for sleep, skin still too hot for the blanket but not kicking it off all the way since Abe knew Mihashi would wake up in the middle of the night chilled and wanting it. Abe breathed out into Mihashi’s hair, fingers stroking gentle circles into the skin beneath them and soothing out until they were both melted together. But they didn’t go to sleep right away; instead they talked, first about their plans for when they got back home, and then work, and old baseball games never forgotten, wondering if various couples from their team would like to come over for New Years or if Momoe was serious when she’d mentioned starting a tradition for them all to get together at her place for New Years. 

And then at last, Abe heard as Mihashi’s voice bled slowly into a sleepy murmur, and with one last brushed kiss against his temple, he reached down, grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed and hauling it up. He tucked it around, and settled back into place, closing his eyes as their limbs entwined together as much here as they did at home, fitting as imperfectly together with a few adjustments as they’d learned over the past year. But it was all right, Abe mused, sighing out one last sound of contentment into the soft strands brushing his mouth. There would be many, many more years for them to learn.

 


End file.
